


No intentions

by Nirmalneaners



Series: unofficially official [8]
Category: DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Awkward, Denial of Feelings, Developing Relationship, Funny, Idiots in Love, Implied Relationships, M/M, batkids, pov martha kent, so much gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 12:30:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16175126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nirmalneaners/pseuds/Nirmalneaners
Summary: you don't stare at all your friends' bums when they walk away do you?""No ma'am, we are not. I wasn't-" A sudden crash cut him off, catching both of their attention to the far door."Crap," could faintly be heard, followed by a few more bangs. She had to suppress her smile, after all, she knew he would have been listening. All those years teaching him about ease dropping coming full circle, and usually, he was good as gold with it, but she had a feeling Bruce would be an exception. A voice called out from one of the other rooms. "Uh, I got your bum- I mean, I got your bumming. Your bedding!"





	No intentions

Finding out her son was gay wasn't the most shocking revelation by far when taken into account he was from a _whole other world_. Maybe its just the after effects of seeing a four-year-old boy run across the yard with their truck like it was just one of his other toys, or how she was more concerned every time he went to sneeze just in case he took out the side of the house again. But finding out he liked other men? That was one of the most normal things she had gone through as a mother.  
  
Of course, nothing concerning Clark could be normal. He had never _explicitly_ said he was gay to her himself, and the idea never entered her head. But when he started to seem preoccupied with something other than his job and being Superman, she had guessed something, or rather _someone_ had grabbed his interest. Especially when he started to smile every time he looked at his phone. She had thought it may have been that nice girl at his works, but that idea went right out of the window when _the newspaper_ arrived. Seeing a picture of your son kissing another man written by the woman _you thought_ he was courting can change your perspective on things. So she did what any Mother would do, she waited for him to come to her about it. But after 6 months had passed and still not a peep, she slyly left the newspaper out when he visited next that he pointedly ignored in front of her, although she didn't miss his gander at it as she washed the dishes and how he choked on his chicken when he realized _what it was_ he was looking at. And as he left that night he kissed her on the cheek and quickly flew off with his cheeks burning red. So that was that, she had thought, it was nothing. It was just a bit of fun.

And it stayed like that until he informed her a week before that none other than _Bruce Wayne_ would be visiting for a few days. So now she found herself sat opposite them both, had watched them glance at each other when the other was not looking and their small smiles all through the meal, and she firmly decided this was most _definitely_ not nothing. This was not _just fun_. _This seemed serious._  
  
"Thank you for the pie, Mrs. Kent." Bruce dabbed his mouth with a napkin lightly and set it on his plate, a small smile on his lips as he looked across the table at her.  
  
"None of that," She waved at him, scrunching her nose in mock annoyance.  "In this house, you call me Martha, we ain't strangers no more."  
  
It threw her for a loop when his smile disappeared and his jaw tensed slightly at her name, and she flicked her eyes across to Clark in question, unsure how the atmosphere changed so drastically. He was slyly looking at Bruce chewing his lip in worry, his fork hovering.  
  
"Right," he said back uncertainly, a little too quiet as he uttered her name after a short pause. Shes never heard it said so wistfully before, or so pained. _"Martha."_  
  
She realized a little late what was wrong, a distant memory of Clark elbows deep in soap suds as he spoke about Bruce. The tragic death of his parents, his mother. _Martha._ Poor boy, she thought sadly, no wonder he was tense.  
  
"Or I'm happy with ma'am," she quickly added, "The only condition is you promise to tell me some stories of what Clark gets up too in the big city. And you don't go tellin' anyone else you call me that."  
  
His smile came back, a look of thanks as the lines crinkled around his eyes. It was jarring how quick the mood changed with him, but then again the man did dress in a bat costume so who was she to judge. "Yes, ma'am."  
  
Clark looked between them with a pout as he ate the last bit of his pie, chewing as he spoke, "I don't like the sound of this deal."

She giggled. "I'm afraid you're outnumbered, son."

"I should tell her about the Bikini fiasco."

"Now that _does_ sound interestin'"

"Don't you dare!" he threatened, pointing his fork threateningly at him. "Or I will tell Alfred you want to star in Hollyoaks."

They sized each other up for a while, Clarks fork hanging between them until they both split into matching grins.

"Touche, Kent."

Clark's eyes drifted on him until finally, they tore away as he collected the plates up while he stood. He walked over to the sink and she kept her eyes on Bruce, watching him as his eyes never left Clarks back until he left the room muttering about needing extra bedding. It was only as the silence settled and Bruce glanced at her and then around the room awkwardly that she realized this was the first time they had been left alone without them two being joined at the damn hip, and she took the opportunity to finally interrogate him. "So, what are your intentions towards my Clark?"

His eyes snapped back to look at her, only widening a fraction in surprise. "Excuse me?"  
  
"Oh, no need to pretend with me, Bruce. I might not be up to date with city livin' but I ain't so ignorant to be shocked by two men shackin' together," He squinted his eyes in confusion, and she saw the moment they ever so slowly morphed into realization. "Hmm, I won't pretend to understand the whole relationship thing you two got goin' on. 'Cause honestly I don't, and Clark ain't told me nothing, but you don't stare at all your friends' bums when they walk away do you?"  
  
"No ma'am, we are not. I wasn't-" A sudden crash cut him off, catching both of their attention to the far door.  
  
_"Crap,"_ could faintly be heard, followed by a few more bangs. She had to suppress her smile, after all, she knew he would have been listening. All those years teaching him about ease dropping coming full circle, and usually, he was good as gold with it, but she had a feeling Bruce would be an exception. A voice called out from one of the other rooms. "Uh, I got your bum- I mean, I got _your bumming_. _Your bedding!_ "  
  
"Thank you." Seemed Bruce was happy to ignore the slip-up, she, on the other hand, was definitely not. He quickly took the opportunity to grab a briefcase from off the floor and laid it in front of him on the table. She could see a conversation changer when one was in front of her. "I also have what you asked for."  
  
"Great! Did you manage to get enough?"  
  
"After the amount that we got through last time? I doubled the shipments."  
  
"Alright," was awkwardly chuckled back, followed by the click of a door. "I'll just go put this upstairs."  
  
"Do I have to be worried about you two sharing a room?" she grinned, listening to the racket as Clark ran up the stairs. The pained look on Bruce's face made it obvious he picked up on the silent question in her joke.  
  
"No, Mrs. Kent." He grimaced, backtracked and tried again. " _Ma'am_. I think highly of your son, he is a valued team member and a remarkable young man. However, I have no- _intentions._ "  
  
_huh._ Seemed weird to her, the man had no intentions yet he never seemed able to take his eyes off Clark for more than a few seconds. Even followed him out to the middle of nowhere when she distinctly remembered Clark complaining about how the man never took a night off. Hell, he even entered whatever the hell kind of relationship the two had. Bruce shifted in his seat uncomfortably, flicking his eyes to the door Clark had gone through as the banging gave away Clark was coming back down.  
  
"Hey Bruce," he said loudly, "I was just thinking, we are gonna be here for a few days so no need to rush into business." He walked in just as Bruce popped the buckles of his case open. "I'd rather not be exhausted-"  
  
She didn't really understand what happened next. She saw the Briefcase burst open, a bang making her jump as something sprayed out into the air and she had to close her eyes as she was hit square in the face. When she reopened them, the first thing she took note off was both their horrified expressions towards her hand. She looked down, and as she noticed the brightly colored square in her palm she caught sight of more littering the table.  
  
_Jesus, they were everywhere_. Was that- no, it was. It was an _apple condom_. No one moved for a few moments, and she looked across it all dumbfounded, trying desperately to not think about how Clark's favorite pie was resting in her hand. There were some things a mother really shouldn't know, and the array of colors and even flavors left her at a loss for words as she took it all in, deciding that this was definitely one of the things she could have died not having knowledge of.  
  
As with all weird things, she recovered quickly enough with a cough.  
  
"No intentions, huh?" she smirked, holding the condom in her palm out to Bruce. He stared at it, clearly in just as much shock as her at the turn of events, before slowly reaching out to take it from her palm,  his eyes horrifyingly bulged as he looked across the table and back into his case. She stood, hearing the soft rustle of packets as more fell from her lap and walked over to Clark, pausing to pat his chest and take one last look back. She noticed a large note taped inside the Briefcase, a sentence scrawled on it neatly. _Thought you might need these, B. Enjoy your vacation. Cas._  
  
Pursuing her lips, she looked up at Clarks gaping face. He looked frozen in shock the poor thing. "You wouldn't take it personally if I asked you two to sleep out in the barn would you?"


End file.
